Journey of an Aspiring Khajiit Necromancer
by Milkfox
Summary: M'azabi is a young wandering Khajiit who likes anything creepy and crawly. And Necromancy. It's mostly about her journeys through Tamriel, her inability to fit into mainstream society and last but not least, her interest in bringing the dead back to life. Rating may change to M in the future for goriness. Reviews are really appreciated!
1. When in Leyawiin

**Authors Note:** _This is mah first story! So, hopefully everything is all good. Sorry for grammar mistakes.. Anyways, the story starts a little before the start of the game Skyrim, but not by very much. Just in case you were wondering. Oh, and Leyawiin is a city in Southern tip of Cyrodiil. On the west side is Elsweyr, and on the east side is the Black marsh, so it's pretty swampy down there. Or jungley, depending on how you view things._

**Authors Note II:**_ Look! Another one! This Author's Note will be on Khajiit lore, so if your interested, follow the link. _group/lore/forum/topics/khajiit-part-3-culture _- A person named Vix wrote this. This person rocks. They deserve multiple pats on the back and cookies. _

**Authors Note III:**_ It just occurred to me that it may be a good idea to say that I don't own Skyrim or anything else Bethesda related. My only claims to fame are my original thoughts and ideas.  
_

Journey of an Aspiring Khajiit Necromancer

Chapter 1

When In Leyawiin

M'azabi had just entered through one of the gates at the city Leyawiin when she caught sight of a deceased toad. The tawny colored Suthay (a type of Khajiit) found dead things interesting for some reason, so she went over to go study it. The Khajiit nudged the somewhat dehydrated carcass of the toad with a stick she had just found. It hadn't rained in quite some time, (which would be an entire three days in Leyawiin) causing the amphibian to adapt a somewhat wrinkled and angry appearance. Well, not that toads ever looked happy when alive either. M'azabi had always thought the little creatures to be the grumpiest looking things on Nirn. The Khajiit studied her specimen further, prodding it here and there so she could get a better view of its shriveled appendages.

As a kitten, M'azabi always remembered finding toads at her home in the northern plains of Elsweyr. She loved their grumpy little expressions and found them quite adorable. Her mother didn't find it very adorable. Thinking back, her mother found quite a few things… less than adorable. She didn't like the snake races her and her friends had. Or her pet tortoise named Rosey (of course, that may be because Rosey's poo always seemed to be wherever someone stepped). Nor the assortment of animal skulls she'd collected, and especially not her keen interest in the art of necromancy.

_"M'azabi thinks it's interesting"_ said six year old version of the currently twenty something year old Khajiit. She was responding to a question her mother had just directed at her when the older Khajiit had spied M'azabi reading a book on Potema Septim, a famous necromancer.

"_Interesting? It is vile! Disgusting! This one hopes her ears will never hear such words again. Go away, this one is finished speaking with you."_ The young Suthay Khajiit was shocked. Her mother never spoke so harshly to her. Yes, they had their disagreements, but there had never been outright disgust from her mother. From that point on, their relationship had gradually gone downhill from there, until M'azabi slipped away from her Clan. Eventually she reached the city Leyawiin.

The Khajiit recalled the memory with bitter resentment, causing her ears to flatten against her skull. She sniffed in disdain, then flung her stick carelessly to the side of the dirt street. Her mother had never understood her. In fact, she still doesn't to this day. It wasn't evil to like those kinds of things, and she had never been a bad kitten. M'azabi's bright yellow eyes narrowed as she pondered this. 

_And what is wrong with toads anyways? They don't give this one warts like many seem to think. And they aren't bothersome. This one thinks they are quiet good at eating annoying insects._ Her tail tip twitched faintly in vexation.

_Best for this one to forget the troubling times she has had_, she thought to herself.

The tawny colored Khajiit stood up suddenly, causing two of her lengthy, dark brown dreads to fall in front of her field of vision. Her hand absentmindedly brushed the coarse strands behind her ear as her honey colored eyes searched for an affordable inn. Or perhaps a dry and secluded place outside. That is, if her limited supply of cash was anywhere near her warning zone, which was around twenty or so septims. A look of alarm passed her features when the thought arose, causing a clawed hand to hoist her small leather pack from her back and search its insides for her coin purse. Her hand found it, and felt that it wasn't, in fact, near the warning zone.

_Good_, M'azabi thought.

_This one was looking forward to an alternative to sleeping on the ground._ The young khajiit swung her pack back on and started down the street. There were a few residents going about their business. She noticed that many of them where khajiit like herself. M'azabi wasn't all that surprised considering the city was so close to the border of Elsweyr. She wondered if any of them spoke Ta'agra, the native Khajiit tongue. There were also quite a few Argonians and men about. Mostly Imperial, she noted.

She had never really cared for the way the other races looked. It was probably due to the fact that the Clan she had lived with was very isolated from society. The men and mer on Tamriel would probably call her Clan nomads. Or maybe some other form of rubbish like 'Primitive Society of Khajiit' or 'Indigenous Cat-Folk of the Northern Plains of Elsweyr.' Men and mer had too many alternate words for things. Especially the mer. At least, that's what her Clan members had told her. M'azabi hadn't actually met too many humans or meri, and when she had, it was very brief. She then wondered why men and mer even bothered with all the fancy words. Why not just call it what it is? Wasn't that easier?

_Perhaps it makes the elven ones feel superior. Yes, this one thinks she is right_. To her, they all looked and acted peculiar.

_Like coming across an animal one has never seen before._ The khajiit twitched her whiskers in amusement at that. Argonians wouldn't be nearly as strange to her if only they weren't so… pointy. And the men and mer had those strange, flat faces.

As she walked, a sudden shadow was cast upon her, causing the Khajiit to look up. There was some kind of colossal building looming over her. She wondered how on Nirn she hadn't notice it sooner. Then she wondered if 'building' would even be the right word to describe it. It was big and square like most Cyrodilic structures, except it had these enormous pointy things on it that looked like they might get struck by lightning the next time a thunderstorm came rolling along.

She then recalled a conversation she had had with this religious Khajiit not too long ago. The guy was trying to get her to see the light of the divines or something. Whatever that meant, she wasn't sure exactly. He could've been speaking literally, or figuratively. It was sometimes hard to tell with the religious ones. Anyways, if M'azabi recalled correctly, the big buildings were places of worship.

_Oh! This one remembers now. They are known as Cathadills. Or was it known by another name?_ The cat-lady pondered this for a moment.

_No. It must be Cathadill._ M'azabi nodded to herself in approval at her good memory. Normally, she had horrible memory. Her memory sometimes reminded her of turtles. They never did one thing for very long (because they were distracted easily) and never seemed to learn anything new. An example would be when you get stung by bees for the first time because you wanted their honey. After the first few attempts, most people stop or try a different approach. If a turtle wanted fresh honey, it would keep coming back the same, painful way as before until it got what it came for. Or, perhaps it would die from too many bee stings. It was hard to say. From what she knew of them, turtles were quite resilient.

The cat-women's ears lowered a notch. _Well, perhaps this forgetful one isn't _that_ forgetful and dimwitted_.

While considering this, M'azabi had been analyzing the Cathadill's (Cathedral) massiveness when she noticed one of the smaller, wooden buildings to her right. It had some sort of sign next to it's entrance.

_ Ah, good. The search for an Inn might be quick after all._ Forgetting the Cathadill for the time being, the Khajiit started for the building, the tip of her tail flicking left and right as she walked. When she neared it, she noted the picture of a crescent moon with stars on it. At the top of the sign it read _The Five Claws Lodge_. So this was where she was staying. It was old, but it looked like it was in good shape. It didn't appear that it would rain tonight either, so a leaky roof was no concern of hers. Hopefully a room would only cost around five to ten septims.

Her clawed hand hooked around the door knob and pulled. The door didn't budge much at all. Did it budge? She wasn't sure.

_Must be the humidity._ She grasped it with both hands and yanked a couple times repeatedly before it swung open. The sudden movement unsettled her balance slightly, but M'azabi quickly righted herself.

The Khajiit stuck her head inside, the air smelled of alcohol. It was dark, so her eyes took a moment to adjust to the new light. To the right, a bar stood with an Imperial lady behind it. The lady had on what M'azabi assumed was a nice dress. She wasn't exactly sure since the normal attire for herself usually consisted of intricate Khajiit robes and head coverings to protect her from the sun. They were quite colorful, which was typical in Khajiit fashion.

M'azabi was currently using her keffiyeh (the head covering) as a way to keep her many dreads out and away from her face and neck. Normally it wound across her entire skull, except for her eyes and ears, of course. She supposed it would now be called a hair-tie or headband, or something like that. As for the rest of her attire, it usually draped over most of her body to protect her from the sun's blistering rays. At the moment, it was more insanely humid than blistering, so the Khajiit had wrapped the cloth around the upper and lower portions of her body, leaving her legs, belly and arms free. M'azabi thought it felt quite nice compared to how she previously felt fully clothed. Only, the Imperial lady was now giving her an odd look. She wondered why that was. Perhaps M'azabi appeared very outlandish to this women. She had a strong inkling that she was right.

Anyways, M'azabi stepped inside, forced the door to shut behind her, then proceeded towards the Imperial Lady.

"Hello dear, can I help you?" Her face was more rounded than most Imperials, and she had the typical dark brown hair and eyes commonly seen among her kind. M'azabi thought the lady seemed friendly enough on first impression.

"Yes, this wandering one would like a room for the night. And she has plenty of coin," she hurriedly added. Didn't want the women to think she was some penniless beggar. The lady made a tight, but polite smile and nodded her head.

"That would be ten septims, dear." The price seemed fair enough to the Khajiit, so she slid her small leather pack off her shoulders, opened it, and rummaged inside for her pouch of coins. She thought it was safer to keep them in here as it wasn't uncommon to find a cut purse eyeing her person for an unguarded pocket. Finding the little cloth sack, she untied the draw stings keeping it sealed and withdrew ten septims as per requested.

"Here," M'azabi thrust the coins towards the women, like she wanted to get it over with. The offerings were accepted somewhat timidly.

"The rooms are just to your left, dear. Here's the key, it unlocks the second door." A small brass colored key was presented. M'azabi accepted the minuscule key quickly, snatched her pack up, then swiveled around on her bare feet to head towards her new chambers. The tawny Khajiit passed by many tables and stools before entering a hallway she assumed led to the sleeping quarters. She assumed right. There were two darkly pigmented wooden doors. She went to the second chamber, tested the key, and was rewarded when the door opened smoothly. Too bad the first door didn't open so effortlessly.

M'azabi blinked. She hadn't thought a mere ten septims would buy such a spacious room. Or a _double bed_. The room even had drawers, a chest and a table complete with books. Closing the door behind her, M'azabi went and peered over at the books that rested on the table. One was _A Dance In Fire_ by Waughin Jarth, another was _The Exodus_, also by Waughin Jarth. There were two more under first books, a _Guide To Leyawiin_ (by Alessia Ottus) and the other one was _The Real Barenziah_ written by Plitinius Mero.

_Someone has quite good taste in books,_ thought the Khajiit. Waughin Jarth was one of her more favored authors. The guys books had this darker tone and a certain grittiness to it that she liked. It was unique, she thought. Most authors she had come across were incredibly boring or to… _happy_. It was as if life, to them, was some kind fairytale wonderland. She couldn't think of any other way to describe it. Those kinds of books were too perfect. Nothing ever went _wrong_, and if it did, good things always happened in the end. Those kinds of stories weren't _real_, so to speak. Life rarely ever ended with a _happily ever after_ ending.

Anyways, it was only a little bit pass noon by now, and the Khajiit didn't care to stay cooped up inside the muggy inn when it was so nice outside. The books, she decided, could wait till night. M'azabi reopened her chamber door and locked it behind her. She took her worn pack with her even though it was likely nothing would happen to it if it stayed behind. Her little worn leather pack had been everywhere with her, all throughout Elsweyr in fact. Rarely was the lithe Suthay seen without it.

The cat-lady's shoeless feet once again took her through the small wooden hallway that separated the chamber rooms from the bar. The reek of alcohol was quite strong to her, but to others not of Khajiit origin it would appear mild, or even faint. Most Khajiit didn't mind the smell. Actually, most of her Clan liked the stench and would often indulge in the stuff. M'azabi recalled her favored uncle, Ja'viir was his name, as being a very overindulgent drinker. It was never a good thing to let him liquor up, being the Senche (a type of Khajiit) that he was. Ja'viir never hurt anyone, nothing like that. He just metamorphosed into a very rowdy and hungry Khajiit. It was not an uncommon sight to see him devour an entire deer by himself.

Anyways, her cat-like feet soon brought her to the main section of the bar where all the tables and stools stood idly by awaiting an occupant. Actually, she noticed one lucky stool already had an occupant. He must've just arrived when she was in her room. That, or M'azabi really needed to pay closer attention to her surroundings. He was some sort of elf. She stopped suddenly to size the mer up, not really caring that she openly studied him. He returned her stare with a frown. Or perhaps it was more of a scowl? Elven expressions were still new to her yet. He was clothed in black robes with golden trim, with matching gloves and boots as a bonus. She thought it very unoriginal, there was no color to it. No pizzazz.

_Must be the elven fashion…_ she thought. His face was very angular, but not exactly bony. To the Khajiit's surprise, the mer's eyes were golden like her own. As was his skin and hair. Well, she was positive he wasn't a Dark Elf, and was pretty sure Wood Elves didn't normally have golden hued skin and eyes. That left High Elf as her only option.

She had never glimpsed a High Elf up close before. Back in Elsweyr, M'azabi remembered sighting a band of them traveling some ways away going who knows where. She wanted to get a better look at them, but Uncle Ja'viir had indicated that it was best to stay away. He couldn't actually speak in any kind of spoken language, but she understood him just as if he could speak.

"You are a High Elf, yes?" M'azabi witnessed his blonde eyebrows rise up a notch at her question. Or maybe it was because of her outfit. The Imperial Lady had acted in a similar manner upon sighting her. She was pretty sure the eyebrow thing meant he was shocked, or surprised. It had to be one of those emotions anyways.

"No, I'm a Dunmer" he answered sarcastically. M'azabi's ears tilted backwards somewhat. Either this elf was very confused, or he was messing with her. The Khajiit knew for a fact that Dark Elves, or Dunmer as the confused elf called them, were in fact grey skinned and red eyed. The confused one had golden skin and eyes.

"Khajiit does not understand why you lie to her. It is a simple question. Therefore, it should have a simple answer," she explained. Her tail swished to and fro as she crossed her arms. The elf must've thought crossing his own arms to be a good idea also, for he did the same.

"My apologies, Khajiit. I simply though you were…" the golden skinned one seemed to consider his words for a moment.

"I believed you weren't being serious," he lazily finished, then leaned back against his chair. M'azabi's sizeable ears rose to an agreeable height.

"As did this one. This Khajiit has never seen a High Elf before."

"Really? I never would've fathomed it."

"Khajiit suspects you are using words not entirely true yet again."

"Of course not." Both Khajiit and Altmer regarded each other for a brief moment before the tawny Suthay decided to break the silence.

"This one is known as M'azabi. Is there a name this Khajiit may call you?" she inquired.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to let you know-" the Altmer was interrupted before he could finish.

"It would hurt you for Khajiit to know your name?" M'azabi exclaimed, surprised. She thought he looked slightly perplexed.

"No! That's not what I meant."

"Oh." M'azabi uncrossed one of her arms and scratched behind one of her enlarged ears.

"Then may this curious one know the name to who she speaks to?" she inquired.

"My name is Elatris Numircto," he finally stated. M'azabi inclined her head slightly in greeting.

"Blessings of the moons upon you, Elatris Numircto," She noticed that the High Elf bit his lip before speaking again.

"Ah… yes. To you also. But please, just call me Elatris."

"If that is what you wish."

"It is." The Altmer took a larger intake of breath, then exhaled through is nose in a gentle sigh.

"Is there another purpose to this discussion?" he inquired. M'azabi's ears twitched, it sounded like the Imperial Lady was putting dishes away.

"No," replied M'azabi. The Altmer looked as if he was about to say something further, but the cat-lady beat him to the chase.

"On second thought, there is." The elf appeared to frown even more. She shifted her footing to a more comfortable stance, then continued.

"Is there anything interesting to see in Leyawiin? Perhaps an interesting shop? Preferably one dealing with magic?" asked the Khajiit excitedly. M'azabi had heard somewhere that she was likely to run into either the Collage of Whispers or the The Synod at many of the larger cities in Cyrodiil. She hoped that one of these guilds would have something catering towards necromancy.

Anyways, she noticed that Elatris seemed even more distressed then before, mostly because his facial features appeared tight.

"There's a General Goods shop two houses down the avenue. Also, if your interested, which it appears you are, Collage of Whispers is located just west of here in the old Mages Guild headquarters. Now, is there anything else Khajiit? If that's all, I suggest you hurry along," he waved his hand at her in a sort of dismissal. She assumed it was a dismissal anyways. He could've just been swatting at a passing fly.

"Khajiit thinks not, and she thanks you for your suggestions. This one will defiantly investigate this Collage of Whispers. Until next time, Elatris." M'azabi dipped her head slightly in the Khajiit fashion of greetings and partings. The High Elf hummed in response, but didn't seem to care to speak further. The Khajiit didn't exactly mind, she had received the information she wanted and met her first High Elf along the way.

M'azabi turned on her heels and padded towards the Inn's exit. The sensation of eyes bearing into her back was instantly felt the moment she marched away, making the tanish fur along the nape of her neck prickle in uneasiness. Her sense of anxiety only dissipated when the stubborn door was forced shut upon the inside of _The Five Claws Lodge_, leaving the Khajiit standing under the humidity of the southern sun.

A pensive mien had crossed M'azabi's features. A clawed hand reached for the nape of her neck, smoothing the unsettled fur down. She wondered at her apprehensiveness.

_It is probably nothing of great concern_, she mused. After all, she was in her first big city, so the cat-lady should have expected to feel a sense of uneasiness at some point or another.

_Enough of this brooding! The place of magic awaits to the west._ Making up her mind, M'azabi looked towards the sun to get her bearings.

It was afternoon, so the sun would be in the westerly portion of the sky. West just happened to be right in front of her, in the direction of the Cathadill. The Khajiit tightened her pack around her shoulders, then journeyed in said direction.


	2. The Collage of Whispers

**Authors Note I:** Khajiit owns only her own original thoughts and ideas. Nothing more.

* * *

Chapter 2

The Collage of Whispers

A women of Imperial heritage sat in the main hall of the Collage of Whispers with a book in hand. She was adorned in red mages robes that complemented her image nicely. The women was older, but not terrible so. The signs of age were only just beginning to show upon her kindly features. She reached down a hand to turn a page, creating the pleasant rustling sound that paper often makes.

Sunlight poured into the main hall of the Collage as the main door was opened, causing dust moats to dance under the light's glare. The stream of sunlight was soon obscured by the shadow of a very ethnic looking Khajiit. Her many dreads were pulled away from her face by a vibrant, embroidered cloth. A fly buzzed by her ear, causing it to flick and jingle her many golden adornments. Her feline-like eyes caught the light, making it appear as if her eyes were glowing amber orbs.

The quaint women startled at the sudden appearance of her strange guest, which in turn temporarily caused her to lose her place in her book. Finding her place again, the Imperial women marked the passage she had been reading, then closed the book with a pleasing thud.

Setting the well worn book down, the middle-aged women met the Khajiits amber eyes with her own auburn ones.

"This is the Collage of Whispers, yes?" asked the Khajiit. Her voice had a certain raspy, but musical note to it. It was the thick accent found exclusively in the land of the Khajiit. The kindly women stood and brushed out the wrinkles of her crimson gown.

"That it is, Khajiit. Is there something I can do for you? My names Caecilia by the way." The women reached out a hand in greeting. The tawny Khajiit glanced at her hand, but made no attempts to shake it.

"Khajiit is named M'azabi, and she welcomes you," the cat-women inclined her head in the Khajiit manner of greetings and partings. Caecilia's outreached hand dropped to her side. Noticing this, M'azabi indicated to her hand.

"Khajiit is confused. Did Caecilia want this one to hold something perhaps?" A look of recognition passed across the female mage's face.

"_Oh_, you don't know what that means!"

"Khajiit does not understand…" A small smile appeared on Caecilia's lips.

"I'm sorry. It's just, I thought you were being rude." M'azabi's ears drew back slightly, not in an agitated or angry way, but in a more bewildered sort of way.

"Khajiit is terribly confused."

"Whenever someone does this," the women presented her palm once more to the feline women with an amused grin. M'azabi eyed it warily.

"It's their way of saying hello." The Khajiit's ears perked up.

"Like this?" inquired M'azabi. She extended her own palm, but made no attempt to shake.

"Not quite. You'll need to actually shake hands. See?" Caecilia smaller hand grasped the Khajiit's larger, clawed one. She then proceeded to force the cat-ladies hand in a vigorous up and down motion.

"Khajiit thinks this is a very strange way to greet someone…" she stated when they had finished shaking hands. The Khajiit then grinned toothily.

"But she likes it! For now on, this one will 'shake hands', as you called it." The Imperial's auburn eyes seemed to glimmer in amusement.

"Yes, you de-," BAM! Both women flinched at the noise, the one with fur more so than the other. Many irate shouts and heavy foot falls followed the explosion above their heads.

"That noise!" exclaimed M'azabi. Her fur along her tail and nape had become unsettled by the sudden outburst. Caecilia groaned exasperatedly. Her expression morphed from one of amusement to one of sourness.

"It's the students..." she explained hurriedly before hoisting up her skirts and rushing up the nearest stairs. Curiosity urged M'azabi to follow. As the two ladies ascended the stairs rather hurriedly, M'azabi's nose wrinkled at a rather unpleasant smell similar to that of burning garbage and something else more… exotic.

They had neared the top of the stairs when two younger humans dressed in mage's robes wildly stumbled down the stairs, their sleeves lifted to cover their faces from the stench. M'azabi pressed against the wall to let them pass as it looked like they might accidently take her out were she to get in their way.

Both Imperial and Khajiit reached the top only to be greeted by a wave of thick, purple smoke. M'azabi gagged, this had to be the worst thing she had ever inhaled in her life! Seeking Caecilia for guidance, she witnessed the women stomp down the left hallway in a blaze of furry, shoving an assortment of fleeing, wheezing, and gagging mages left and right. M'azabi gingerly tailed her, her hands covering her muzzle.

_"Domitius!_ If that's another one of your blasted experiments I swear I'll wring your neck!" screeched the once cheery Imperial women. M'azabi's eyes widened at the death threat, but she soon regretted it when her eyes began to water.

Caecilia reached one of the many doors and attempted to pry it off it's hinges. In her failed effort, the women made and angry noise the proceeded to bang on the poor door with her fists.

"Open up this instant you twit!"

"N- NO! Don't come in!" came a panicked, masculine voice from the far side of the door. A series of crashes and grunts emitted from the other side of the door.

Apparently, Caecilia didn't care what the panicked man wanted or didn't want, because her hands started forming an eerie neon bluish-green orb that made her look very frightening to the already very disturbed Khajiit.

The glowing magic-ball (or that's what the Khajiit thought it was anyways) suddenly shot from her hands, then collided with the door like a bat out of Oblivion. The door must've decided it wanted to be a bluish-green magic-ball too, for it started glowing just like the other thing.

The next thing M'azabi knew, there was the sound of wood being ripped apart and the magic-door was sailing into the next room like it just _knew_ it could fly if it tried hard enough.

There was an unpleasant noise of many things breaking, then it was silent. M'azabi guessed the door hadn't tried hard enough at flying, so it crash landed somewhere in the room. She hoped so anyways, sometimes silence meant there were worse things to come.

The scary Imperial women had already stomped off into the mysterious magic-room. She decided to follow. She had already survived this far, so M'azabi supposed she could live through whatever came next too.

The mauve colored smoke still hung thick in the air, making things hazy and difficult to see. Even with the hindrance, the Khajiit could tell the room was totaled. In one corner it looked like there used to be a pretty nice alchemy lab. It didn't look so nice anymore, one of the legs appeared to be broken in half and the alembic looked to be scattered in pieces all over the floor.

In another corner it looked like there used to be a _really_ nice oak book case. Instead of standing proud and regal looking like those kinds of book cases seem to do, it now stretched out on the ground with books scattered every which way around it. M'azabi would bet her tail that those were some very nice books. It was a really nice book case. She had managed to inch her way over there to see if there were any books she could, well, borrow.

Her cat like eyes searched behind her so she could eyeball Caecilia and the guy (he looked like another human) she guessed started the whole thing. Caecilia seemed to be telling the other guy off and gesturing to something under the (almost) flying door. She couldn't actually see them all that well, so she assumed it would be the same for her. That they wouldn't be able to see her, that is.

M'azabi turned her amber gaze back to the task at hand. Most of the tomes were still trapped under the once regal looking book case, but there were still quite a few that could be easily reached. M'azabi reached for one. She hastily rubbed the soot and other nastiness's off it, it read _The Doors of Oblivion_.

The Khajiit's whiskers twitched excitedly. She would defiantly keep this one! The cat-like woman slung off her leather pack as quickly and discreetly as possible. The two behind her still appeared to be arguing.

_Good. The longer they fight, the better for this one._ M'azabi stuffed the book in her pack, then reached for another one. This one was a bit torn in places and had a broken spine, but the Khajiit didn't mind so long as she could read it.

M'azabi clumsily turned the book in her palms until she could read the words inscripted on the spine. Upon reading it, her whiskers twitched furiously and her amber eyes grew wide despite the acrid air.

_A spell tome! Khajiit found a spell tome! She is most lucky!_ M'azabi had never been able to afford a spell tome before. The caravan her Clan traded with occasionally carried them, but they always cost an arm and a leg. A few times she had contemplated just taking some, but ruled against it as that was her Clan's only trade source. Wouldn't want them to stop trading with her Clan, she knew quite a few Khajiit who would be less than pleased with her.

M'azabi's cat-like ears twitched to listen behind her, the other's heated argument had died down. They were starting to move around.

_Not yet! _In a panic, the Khajiit shoved the tome in her pack, snatched three more books and stuffed them on top of her first find. Her paw-like hands yanked the drawstring tight on her pack and proceeded to fling her over her shoulders. M'azabi then turned to hopefully make a sneaky break for it.

"-believe this Domitius! What in Oblivion possessed you to summon an Imp in _town!_ Do you even _care _what could happen if the towns folk find out?"

"I didn't-"

"They'll ruin us Domitius!"

"I-"

" Ruin!" M'azabi neared the door, um, doorway warily. She could just make out Caecilia's little hands flapping in the air like little frantic bird wings. The Khajiit thought it was probably her futile attempt at dissipating the magic-smoke. It wasn't really working. If anything, it caused the hazy air to make pretty little smoke swirls. She wondered why they didn't just open a window. Perhaps ranting was more important to them

The doorway was just a step further, M'azabi just had to make her way through a pile of clutter and she would be home free.

"Who's that?"

Unless, that is, she was spotted first.


End file.
